We Get Nowhere
by thatswhyyyoudont
Summary: Slash. The slow evolution of Murdoc's relationship with 2D.
1. Essex

Essex, UK; 2012.

_"Forgive me, for what I've become."_

_Amarillo, The Fall. _

Their eyes had adjusted to the dark, but it was still difficult to credit how little was left of the deserted building. The smell, however, was exactly the same, the flesh of the zombies and indistinguishable stench of the junk in the landfill, resulting in a strange flood of nostalgia for 2D. It had been their home for a good ten years. Of course, there was the new smell mized in with it all; one of burning and smoke and ash. The silence, also, was new. Usually there were birds, scavengers, and their unwanted, unliving hosts groaning and limping around, music from the studio, shouting, usually from Murdoc, and now there was nothing save for the pattering rain. 2D inwardly flinched at the thought of Murdoc. Of course, he was thinking of him all along, underneath, but he didn't like it surfacing. He brushed the thought away. The dampness added another quality to the smell, unclean and rotten. Standing before Kong, unbelievably for the last time, 2D and Noodle surveyed the grounds grimly.

"Did you check everywhere?" Noodle asked, as if they had actually been wandering through their old home instead of the piles of ash and rubble it had become.

"Yeah," 2D said. He gave her hand a brotherly squeeze, and she squeezed back gratefully. He wished there was something he could say, but there was no need; Noodle was no longer a child and no idiot, and understood what had happened.

"Let's go," she said bravely, and they began their descent back down the hill.

As soon as they were out of the woods and 2D's reception returned, he phoned Russel.

"Any luck?"

"He's not here," 2D said flatly, words rolling from his tongue the fifth time that year. He no longer felt anything as he said it, no disappointment, no fear. Hawaii, Mexico, L.A, even Stoke-on-Trent, and no Murdoc. They didn't expect him to be here if someone was after him, as Kong would surely be the first place someone would look, but still, they had to come. They had been putting it off, afraid of the state it would be in. And their fears were affirmed; it was worst than any of them had expected, completely burnt to the ground. 2D struggled to figure out how he could break it to Russel.

"Guys," Russel said, and 2D glanced at Noodle and could tell she was listening. "Why don' we just leave him? He could be anywhere, and he don' give a shit about us. We need to find a place to rest up."

2D watched Noodle carefully, but she barely flinched. "Maybe you're right," she conceded. "I just...want us all to be all right. Back together again. The music won't come for a long time, but we still need each other. To get to know one another again. To- " Usually articulate, she broke off in frustration, looking like she wanted to kick something.

"Yeah," Russel said gently, sensing her frustration. "So we should do that. And his Highness can join us when he's ready."

2D swallowed. "But what if he's not just in some hideout up to his old shit? Something _was_ after us, Russel," he spoke quietly, almost apologetically. "He might be in trouble."

"But how much trouble has he got _us_ in, D? And how much has he gotten himself into? We been tryin' for months now, and enough's enough, y'know? Murdoc can look after himself."

2D and Noodle walked on in silence for a while, the only sound in the night being their footsteps and Russel's breathing down the line; steep, unsteady.

"Guys?"

"Still 'ere," 2D murmured. "So...what now?"

"Well, I can meet you guys at Kong and we can..."

They both froze in their tracks, looking at each other searchingly. Eventually, 2D interrupted, "We can't, Russ. I'll tell you when I see you."

There was a little silence. "That don' sound good," he sighed. "OK. I'll call Damon. See if there's anywhere he can recommend. Even if we're doin' nothin' musically, he don' need to know that. An' he has a knack for getting us nice, eccentric places in the middle of nowhere."

2D nodded to himself; the newly giant Russel would need somewhere as isolated as Kong.

They hung up, and waited until they were once face to face with Russel to tell him what was left. The older man's face caved as he took the news, but then his mouth set in a grim line. "OK, then," he said, almost to himself. He sat in silence for the rest of the evening, and even 2D knew that they would no longer be looking for Murdoc. 2D felt an urge to repeat what he had said about Murdoc, his old loyalty stirring despite everything, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.

After a while, he asked,"What did he say? Damon?"

"No answer."

Only a few hours later, both Russel and Noodle were fast asleep. Russel had been right; their trip, not to mention everything else, was beginning to catch up with them. Unable to sleep, 2D decided to try Damon himself.

He picked up on the sixth ring. "'Ello?"

For a moment, 2D couldn't speak. "M-Murdoc..?"

There was a tiny pause. "2D?"

"Murdoc!" 2D burst out, an odd mixture of joy and relief and pain. "Where are you? We've been lookin' for you everywhere - are you OK?" His chest hurt and his eyes burnt. He had to sit down. He was ecstastic to an almost painful extent. He knew he should go and wake Noodle and Russel, it was so selfish of him not to. but he couldn't yet; he needed Murdoc's voice to himself for one more moment.

"Where are you?" Murdoc was demanding rudely, unconcerned, as if they had spoke a week ago instead of nearly a year.

"Murdoc, we've been lookin' for you. We started in Hawaii, then Mexico, and LA and- and Kong," he said, voice catching, remembering the state of the place. "People are saying you burnt it, but you couldn't have, right? We've lost everything, even- "

"D," Murdoc said, getting annoyed again.

"We've been everywhere, Murdoc," 2D said again, more forcefully. "We thought something had happened to you."

There was a little pause. "You didn't have to," he said eventually, grudgingly. "You know what things are like, D. We drift apart. And I can look after myself."

"But..." 2D couldn't finish. His head was spinning. A year. Murdoc sounded as unconcerned as ever.

"Listen dullard, pay attention. Get a pen and paper. I'm at 212 Wobble Street- "

"_Wobble _Street?"

"Yes, you moron, _Wobble_ Street. It's a three bed in the outskirts of London, so we can keep our pet Russel the giant freak somewhere hidden. How's Noodle?" he said suddenly.

2D skipped a beat at this change of tone, before answering. "OK, I think. She seems better."

"Good," he said, business-like, as if discussing the condition of their recording equipment. "So just come here, all right? All of you."

"You could have answered your phone." It was the closest 2D could get to reproach. "And what are you doing with Damon's? Is he there?"

"I've been fucking busy, D," he snarled. "And mind your own fucking business."

2D couldn't speak for a moment. "Right. See you tomorrow, then."

"Look, don't get arsey with me, you little shit. I'm the one who has to run the show while you piss about working at funfairs and getting law degrees. It's not my fault you lot decided you needed a trip round the world to try and find me. I've been dealing with it, OK? And I've had to..."

2D inwardly groaned. Murdoc was working his way up to a full fledged rant. He also felt like crying; he had genuinely begun to believe that Murdoc may be dead, and the man just didn't seem to understand that or what it meant to him; he was acting as if he hated 2D more than ever.

"Murdoc, I can't hear you very well," he cut in. "We're in the middle of nowhere and the signal's not great. I'll call you tomorrow when we're on the way, yeah?"

"What? I can hear you fine, D. D?"

2D hung up, and switched the phone off. He looked over at his friends; there was no point waking them now. Stupid, he was so fucking stupid. Why did he always expect things to change?

In the outskirts of Hammersmith, Murdoc phoned 2D back six times before throwing the phone across the room. He rummaged around in the debris until he found another bottle, and pried it open. In a rage, he thought he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. He threw an arm over his eyes. After putting it off for 13 odd years, if he was going to get anywhere with this shit he was going to have to go through it, all of it, and acknowledge whatever the fuck had gone on. What was still going on.


	2. Kingston

Phase 1:

Kingston, Jamaica; 1999.

_Never let me down, gently._

Sound Check (Gravity), Gorillaz.

"But you must remember something," the journalist persisted. Murdoc had thought she must fancy 2D at first, but she was clearly making him uncomfortable now and had another motive. "Sounds, movement, anything, even if it's vague."

"Nope. Nothing." When she just looked at him, 2D added helpfully, "It was like bein' asleep."

Murdoc chortled somewhere in the background. "He was unconscious, love. Not much different from now, really."

She ignored him, went on talking to 2D. "What about when you woke up? What's the very first thing you remember?"

"Um..." he fidgeted, on the spot. They all waited patiently, even Murdoc. "The smell of hospitals," he said eventually.

"Really?" she said. "That's interesting. Describe it."

2D looked at her uncertainly. "But..you must know what hospitals smell like..." he glanced at his bandmates for help.

Murdoc sniggered. "Maybe she couldn't smell anything over the silicone."

She shot a daggered look at Murdoc, but didn't dignify his remark with a verbal response. "OK, so the accident itself - you don't remember anything at all? Or anything about being in the coma?"

"No," 2D said, with emphasis. "You could ask Murdoc about it, seeing as he was conscious and all."

Murdoc started cackling, and 2D looked shame-faced. The journalist looked shocked. Russel stepped in, "We're only human, ma'am. It doesn't happen too often, but even 2D has his moments. Why don' you stop buggin' him about the accident?"

Murdoc chipped in, "2D has, like, these random moments of sarcasm, and they're so brilliant because they're so unexpected. I mean, look at him - how dense can you get? But there's something in there." He sat there chuckling.

She got back onto the accident itself, and then Murdoc stopped laughing, had had enough.

"Listen, love, are you actually who you say you are? Because if you're, like, a new secret recruit of the NHS, or something, and you've been wasting our time..."

Needless to say, she didn't stay long.

"What a twat," was Murdoc's comment, when Noodle was out of earshot. "Morbid interest in comas, and she wasn't even that fit. I should get her sacked."

In a rare moment of insight, 2D said, "Maybe she knows someone in a coma."

"Ah," Russel said.

Murdoc still looked sceptical. "She was still a waste of time."

Still in Jamaica, just the two of them now. And why not? Let Russel and Noodle get cracking if that was what they wanted. Murdoc would catch up, but right now he wanted his holiday. And as for the two of them, well, Murdoc grudgingly relented that he was getting used to the twat; he wasn't all bad. He'd shoot himself before he'd admit that they actually got on all right half the time. And even with 2D here, if you got used to the heat and occasional hurricane, the place was paradise. Their hut was surrounded by planes of white, hot sand, and at night the tourists had gone home so there was just crickets and the tide and the hum of the air conditioning.

2D wasn't around now, anyway, and Murdoc wanted to think about what he'd been putting off. That night, seeing 2D sing his dumb little heart out on the roof at two in the morning. He'd listened from start to finish with goosebumps all over him. When 2D was done, there was a little silence. Neither he or Noodle spoke, and neither of them knew Murdoc was there. 2D opened his eyes then and saw Murdoc straight away, giving a little start. Then he smiled almost shakily.

"It's good, isn't it?" he said in a whisper, as if his voice was used up. And Murdoc could only stare.

It left him in a ponder for the rest of the night. How someone so thick could have that in them was beyond him. But he wasn't completely, 100% thick. Or terrible. It was difficult for Murdoc to get his head around.

Noodle had gone to bed and the two of them stayed up. Murdoc wanted to hold onto the moment for the rest of the night, but after about 20 minutes 2D was prattling away like his usual self and Murdoc was drinking and trying not to kill him.

An hour later 2D had fallen asleep at his side, on his bed in front of a zombie movie, and Murdoc was left sat there wondering if that was the feeling he was supposed to get when you realised you didn't hate someone. Maybe it was the heat. It must be; it was unnaturally, unbearably hot, which was fine for the most part as they were just lounging around in swimming pools and air conditioned bars, but now, when he was trying to sleep at night in their little shack, it was oppressive. A half decent mood was impossible.

Their holiday ended up lasting only 2 nights. In which Murdoc knocked 2D's teeth out. His frustration was bubbling over with the heat, with 2D being so fucking close all the fucking time, falling asleep beside him on the couch or the bed or wandering into the room half naked innocently looking for his shirt, all the time with that fucking oblivious look in his eyes. Until it got so strong that Murdoc had to do something, he had to push 2D against the nearest hard surface and try it. Instead, he knocked his teeth out. The next day, they had to fly home, and back in breathable climate, Murdoc could think. He was calm. He bought 2D some new DVDs to make up for it, though made him swear to never tell a soul about this moment of weakness. He was Murdoc Niccals, and he had a band and a lifetime of fame and fortune ahead of him. And as for 2D... he tried not to brood on it. It was bound to be the sort of thing that would just go away on its own.


	3. Osaka

Osaka, Japan; 2000.

_"It's a hard dream to contemplate..._

_It's the reason to deliver."_

The Sounder, G-Sides.

They had left their arguments and pet peeves behind in their manky tourbus and gone to a penthouse apartment for a party, and it had been amazing. The first big night of their success, all their friends with them at this new party world of lights and glamour, and it made 2D appreciate how well things were going. He was still riding the waves of their fresh, new success, and though Murdoc seemed to hate him, he seemed to hate everyone, so it didn't really matter.

And that was only on the outside. When they made music, when they did what mattered, Murdoc was all business and took everything seriously, even 2D. When they wrote and recorded Gravity, 2D had been singing on the roof in Jamaica with Noodle watching with the scratchy recorder, and when he was done, he noticed Murdoc in the shadows, watching; had been watching all along. Murdoc never said anything to him, but 2D sensed something pass between them, a new found respect from the other man. He didn't care if Murdoc hated him the rest of the time. If Murdoc's mission in life was to prove how much of a bastard he really was, 2D didn't care so long as they could make songs like Gravity. And maybe Murdoc knew this. Maybe it was the one thing that kept him from really losing it and killing him. But then Murdoc had knocked his teeth out less than 48 hours afterwards, so 2D didn't know what to think.

He was too happy to dwell on this at the party. The band hadn't seen each other much, sticking to different groups and having a much needed, refreshing break from their company after so long on the bus, each of them keeping a distant eye on Noodle, who'd been having a blast, running excitedly from group to group to demonstrate karate chops and roundhouse kicks.

By 3am, 2D found himself alone. Most people had gone, and Noodle had long been in bed, taken to the bus by Russel who had muttered about ordering pizza. Murdoc was nowhere to be seen. Probably up some girl's skirt somewhere. Probably a girl 2D had been talking to. Who cares, they had an album out. 2D laughed. It occurred to him that he was quite drunk. He looked around at the mess, pitying the owner while at the same time feeling quite happy that it wasn't their bus.

He wasn't tired yet, and decided he would go to the roof for a cigarette. He had to climb a lot of stairs, but the view was worth it. Pushing the heavy, creaking door open and crossing to the edge, 2D felt a little jump of pleasure when he was greeted by all those lights, hundreds and thousands of them. It was mesmerising, like being on top of a prettier world. Sharp intake of breath.

He had just lit up when he heard a noise behind him. Turning round, he jumped when he saw Murdoc. The older man must have been there all along, having nowhere on the roof to conceal himself, and 2D must have been too entranced by the lights, or too drunk, to notice him. He felt an automatic twinge of fear in his gut. Murdoc was his best mate, but he still didn't like being alone with the other man at the best of times.

"Hi, Murdoc," he said. He glanced behind the bassist to check for a woman lurking in the shadows, but found no-one.

Murdoc grunted and came forward to join him at the edge. He had a cigarette in one hand and a bottle in the other. "It ended sooner than I wanted," he grumbled, and 2D relaxed a little, recognising one of Murdoc's more matey moods.

"What you doin' up 'ere?"

He looked annoyed. "I could ask you the same question."

"I wanted to see the lights," he nodded at the view before him. "It's really pretty, innit? I 'aven't seen anythin' this beautiful in a city before. I 'ope we get a place with a great view, on a hill or something, anything with a balcony or.." He tailed off uneasily, and Murdoc didn't comment.

They stood for a while without saying anything. Normally, it would prey on 2D's nerves and he would start rambling again, but tonight he was feeling calm. He may be drunk, but the cool air and the threat of Murdoc's presence had sobered him up somewhat.

As if reading his mind, Murdoc flicked his cigarette away with one hand and offered 2D the bottle with the other. 2D was surprised but pleased, and took a swig. It was strong vodka, and 2D's taste-buds shuddered a little at the bitter taste, but he managed another few swigs, and was rewarded by the light and airy feeling returning to his head.

They did talk then, passing the bottle back and forth for a good half hour. 2D tried to step forward to put his second cigarette out the rail and stumbled mid sentence. Murdoc snatched his arm and said irritably, "For fuck's sake, watch it, you stupid bugger. Do you want to fall off a roof the week before we break America?"

For some reason, the thought struck 2D as helplessly funny, and he tried to smother his giggles with his hands and not look at Murdoc, not wanting to see if the bassist was equally amused or about to hit him.

When he had recovered, he stood leaning against the wall by the door, far from the edge, just to be safe. Murdoc threw the empty bottle in the distance, potentially blinding or killing someone, and 2D didn't have the heart to say anything about it.

They talked some more. 2D tried to explain how the song Gravity made him feel, how them being able to do that and bring it to the world struck him dumb, but he kept getting the words wrong. Murdoc listened patiently, as he tended to when it was about music, and eventually 2D just gave up and said, "It's amazing, isn't it?" Not knowing whether he meant the song or the view or their success or just everything, he just knew Murdoc would understand.

Murdoc looked at him a bit oddly then. Just as 2D was about to change the subject, he stepped up to 2D and kissed him. It was slow, firm and deliberate, not drunken, and not unpleasant. His abnormally long tongue entered 2D's mouth, which was slack with surprise, and he tasted of alcohol and cigarettes similar to his odour. 2D didn't know how long it went on for, Murdoc's languid tasting of him, but eventually a little sound worked it's way up and out of his mouth and he pushed Murdoc off. He felt hot and burning with embarrassment and fear, stumbling towards the door on legs he suddenly couldn't coordinate, and Murdoc didn't try to stop him.

He tripped several times on the stairs, and went down 3 flights before deciding to risk the lift. Struggling to unlock the tourbus door with shaking hands, 2D didn't relax until he had locked the door behind him and stood leaning against it. Russel was asleep at the table, a congealing pizza before him, and Noodle, presumably, was in bed. 2D went to bed himself, lying there in his clothes and shoes and on top of the sheets after giving up trying to pull them out. It was a long time before he heard Murdoc come in.

He woke up the next morning with a hangover and a stomach filled with dread, and frantic worry that he was drunk and confused and had somehow got things wrong, that it was he who made a pass at Murdoc and was about to be killed for it, but Murdoc didn't say anything to him. He'd never said anything since, and despite his comments about the singer's intelligence, 2D wasn't stupid enough to bring it up.

After 13 hours of travel, Murdoc locked himself in his winnebago for weeks, and 2D, Russel and Noodle only saw him sporadically when he emerged for food. 2D felt bad. He hadn't been able to help his reaction, but it hurt to think it may be his fault that Murdoc was behaving in that way. Yet, at the same time, he was a little relieved. It was hard to avoid someone in a tourbus, and he and Murdoc had just had to gone on like nothing had happened, brushing together to get past each other, sleeping in shared space, everything.

But most of all, he missed him. Murdoc barely spoke to him in the first place, before that happened, and now things were even worse. Finally, he got up the courage to go to the vehicle, to actually knock on the door on evening when he overheard the man say to Russel that he would be in that night. There was silence inside. 2D knocked again and waited. He knew better than anyone to attempt an entry. After a minute or so, noises from inside became audible, and the door was lurched open.

2D had to back up slightly from the smell. It wasn't exactly bad, as such, air freshener was mingled very heavily with it all, it was just strong. And 2D hadn't been in there for a while.

Murdoc was shirtless with his inverted crucifix prominent, in his usual low slung jeans with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He didn't bother addressing 2D vocally.

'What,' his eyes said.

2D cleared his throat. "Pizza?" he offered meekly.

There was a little interest in his eyes. He considered, and took the cigarette out. "Now?"

"If you want."

"Hm. Maybe. Hang on." He turned back inside and didn't emerge for a while. 2D could hear him rustling around. "Are they in the kitchen? Has someone cleaned it yet?"

2D frowned. He would have normally wrinkled his nose at the irony of the latter comment, but he was struggling to figure out the former. Then he realised. "Russel's uh, with Del," he said delicately. "And Noodle's eaten."

The rustling inside seemed to stop, and 2D was glad they weren't facing each other.

"You'd better come in, then," he called out finally.

He was nervous. Even more than he thought it would be, and although Murdoc behaved exactly the way he normally would, 2D sort of sensed he was feeling awkward, too. Not awkward. Murdoc doesn't get awkward. Something else. They ordered pizza, but they didn't eat much of it. They mostly drank, and played video games from what 2D remembered. He relaxed, Murdoc relaxed, they were back to normal. They fell asleep in a stupor on top of the purple at opposite ends the way they used to, and even through the haze of alcohol, 2D's relief was palpable.


	4. Los Angeles

Los Angeles, USA; 2005

Phase II

_"But where were you  
When it all came down on me?"_  
Fire coming out of a monkey's head, Demon Days/

_/"Don't go over the edge."_  
Don't get lost in heaven, Demon Days.

Crashing from bar to club to party with Murdoc, they almost felt like best mates. New York and LA and Miami were starting to all look the same. They didn't stick together all night, Murdoc was always chatting someone up, but he never went on to somewhere else without 2D. And sometimes he didn't even seem to hate him all that much. It was one of those rare times, so seldom in their career, that he and Murdoc were true friends, bandmates in it together. Or maybe 2D was just was the kind of cheap glamour everyone associated with fame, that everyone needed a slice of at some point. The lights were too bright, people's perfume and cologne too strong, but didn't mask the stench of sweat, and there were too many people who were strangers rather than friends. And the sad thing was, 2D was rather used to it. Even enjoying himself. This was the best his relationship had been with Murdoc since Paula.

Murdoc had been acting...indifferent, at best, to 2D's new found backbone but sometimes, like now, 2D liked to think he saw the difference. Respected him for it in his own way. Murdoc may have gone out with him in the past, but wouldn't have been seen dead with him in a place like this, however smashed he was. He'd gone up a notch in Murdoc's eyes, he was sure of it. His eyes sought out Murdoc as he thought this.

That night, Murdoc was in a bad way, even for him. He had been trying to get 2D to have a threesome with him and his hooker friend, and 2D had been drunkenly laughing it off. As he was sobering, though, it was starting to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Murdoc? The taxi's 'ere to take us to Cheryl's," 2D said diplomatically. The taxi was actually to take them back to their hotel, where 2D could deposit Murdoc in his room and lock himself in his own.

"Been lookin' for you," he mumbled drunkenly. Then 2D's words seemed to process in his brain. "Wha'? Who?"

"That girl, remember?" he lied innocently, taking Murdoc by the arm and trying to get him through the crowds. It was harder than he expected, and he thought he might be drunker than he realised.

"You liar. You're taking me home. I _know_ you, D."

2D took no notice. He'd fall asleep in the car and then forget everything when he woke up.

Sure enough, Murdoc came pliantly enough, and then 2D had to drag the barely conscious Niccals to his bedroom. Murdoc kept saying, "D...D..." but 2D took no notice of him. He just wanted his own bed. "Got to talk to you, shithead," he said now, barely intelligibly.

2D unhooked his arm from his shoulder and eased him onto the bed. "In the morning," he stumbled back to the door, and stared at it in bemusement when it wouldn't open. He struggled to think through the fog of alcohol; had it locked itself? Had Murdoc somehow locked it from under 2D's arm? Was he completely fucking retarded?

He turned back to Murdoc, but found the older man to be dead to the world. Even in that state, Murdoc managed to look good as he slept; he didn't snore, and his mouth was closed. When he was that quiet, he was almost beautiful. 2D shook his head a little, snapping himself out of it. When the door still didn't budge, and because he was drunk, he flopped onto the other end of Murdoc's bed and fell into a stupor himself. He couldn't snap himself out of it. He thought he'd got a bit of sense since he'd been gone, but he knew, deep down, that he would still do whatever Murdoc wanted him to. He loved Murdoc. Did he? He loved Noodle and Russel. And Murdoc was his best friend. But he wanted him. It was making his head hurt.

2D woke up to five frantic messages from his mother. Now sober, he found that the door opened easily enough; he must have been really out of it. He left without waking Murdoc, and didn't see him again until a good month after the funeral.

Back in Kong, the atmosphere wasn't great. Noodle and Russel were subdued, quiet, their thoughts going out to their absent bandmate. The lamb missing from the herd. Murdoc wasn't spending too much time in Kong; he left his winnebago only when he ran out of food, and to check their messages. He was sure Noodle would knock if 2D called, but still. The rain annoyed him, loud enough to make TV or music unenjoyable. It was always fucking raining here. Kong was like a modern, more fucked up Wuthering Heights.

He lit up a cigarette the minute he finished his former one, and put his feet up. Cortex was sqwarking somewhere in the haze of smoke, but he took no notice. It took a lot to make him feel guilty, and now the emotion was upon, he examined it with a kind of repulsed fascination. Taking a moral perspective wasn't him, but he was just beginning to think about when he had found out 2D's dad had died; the relief. Fuck, the relief of it. He'd had to sit down. He'd woke up knowing, just knowing someone had slept beside him, and sure enough the sheets smelt of butterscotch. It could have been a coincidence, but when he dragged himself up and no-one could find 2D, his bed was unslept in, he was sure. Then he'd found out. They hadn't slept together. He hadn't made another ridiculous pass, despite his memories of clearly thinking it would be harmless. 2D had scarpered because his dad had died, and it had been a relief. And it was only now that it was beginning to hurt.

He felt sorry for 2D. He couldn't get in touch with him for nearly a month. Neither could Noodle and Russel, but he thought they may be in private, and 2D may have begged them not to tell. He wouldn't put it past them. But it was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. He couldn't help it. He cut down on his drinking, in case 2D called or suddenly showed up. He made sure Damon or anyone would not call 2D with anything other than personal concern and bother him or there would be hell to pay.

He turned up at Kong in the rain. The taxi driver had taken him as far as the bottom of the hill, and just looked at 2D when he pointed out that he lived on top of it. And so, he trudged through the mud in the vague direction of the lights through the trees. He had tipped the taxi driver because he felt he should, he always thought he should, and berated himself for it. No reception on his phone. There was a good chance he would be killed by zombies. Worst of all, he didn't take his key, so if his bandmates were out or the doorbell was on the blink again, he would definitely be dead before morning. He blinked hard in the rain. It was nearly 10pm and it was Saturday night; if he was lucky, Murdoc would be out or on his way out.

He rang the bell and knocked, for good measure, and wasn't kept waiting long. Murdoc answered in his usual manner, screwed up expression indicating that someone had yelled at him to, "_Get that fucking door, Muds_!" Then he saw who it was and his jaw went slack, eyes widening. "D," he said stupidly.

2D offered him a perfunctory smile and then pushed past him, as he was still getting soaked and Murdoc showed no sign of moving. That seemed to snap him to life a little.

"He's back!" he shouted into the house. In a second, they heard two sets of movements upstairs, scampering, heavy. 2D was taking his time in getting his wet coat off, and could feel Murdoc's eyes on his back.

"Get here all right?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yep."

It didn't take long for their first argument to break out. Over supper, in fact. Murdoc learnt that 2D had walked up the hill through the zombies and was livid. "You fucking MORON!" He yelled.

"The taxi wouldn't bring me up and there was no reception on my phone! Want did you want me to do?"

"Fucking think, for once in your life! Go back to town and call from there, pay him a hundred quid to drive you up, anything! You fucking dullard, how could you walk that hill at night? You could have died!"

"Shut up!" he yelled, and without thinking flexed his arm and threw the nearest thing that came to hand, a cup. It wasn't aimed anywhere near Murdoc, but it struck their equipment and cracked it with a horrible noise. 2D covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Russel and Noodle inched forward, ready to save 2D at any second, but Murdoc looked merely stunned. "It's OK," he said hastily, seeing 2D was about to cry.

But when 2D was unpacking in his room, Noodle came in and sat on his bed.

"Murdoc's sorry, 2D-san."

"He hasn't said so."

"He won't," she agreed. "But he was worried for you, and that is just how he showed it. He doesn't think."

He sat in the TV room, Noodle and Russel at either side of him. Murdoc returned after a while, and didn't say a word, but sat on the carpet next to 2D's legs. It was there, sandwiched between his second family, that he felt safe. Looked after. He closed his eyes. He had no time for Murdoc.

"Jesus Christ," Murdoc cursed viciously as they backed up. "I know, 2nd floor. Fire escape."

They ran for the seldom used fire escape and made it to the 2nd floor unscathed. The undead were still mostly making their way up the hill, and Murdoc had not yet taken any shots at them. Noodle was armed with a sword and 2D his switchblade, while Russel had been too surprised to get anything. The 2nd floor was a moment of genius on Murdoc's part; the lift did not go to the 2nd floor, never had, the stairs had been blocked off long ago by an error of design and so the only way up was the way they had taken; the fire escape. Murdoc told 2D and Noodle to watch this door while he and Russel checked around.

The 2nd floor was deserted. It was an odd, no man's land to their home; an empty, chilly corridor with 2 storerooms and a bathroom attached. The lift hadn't come up here when they first moved in and they had never bothered getting it fixed, and so never bothered coming up. They bypassed it on the way to the roof, and Noodle occasionally dumped shoes up here when her own closet became ridiculous, but that was it.

"All right," Murdoc said, when they returned to Noodle and 2D. "We'll barricade this with shit from the storeroom and wait for the phone reception to come back. Damon or someone'll notice something's up at some point and come and get us. In fact," he cut himself off. "Shit. We'll have to raid the kitchen before we make a barricade. I think they're blankets and stuff, but- "

"There's food, too."

Murdoc looked at 2D like he'd grown an extra head.

He continued apologetically, "There is. The lady at the cafe told me. There's not much room in the kitchen because we keep so much of our junk in there, so most of it is stored up here."

"But I didn't see..." Murdoc stalked off midsentence to a storeroom. Noodle and 2D stayed to guard the door. Russel still looked bewildered. "You beauty!" Murdoc shouted to 2D from the room. He ran back out and slapped 2D on the back. "There's a roomful! Plus loads of other junk. Come on, let's get barricading. Noodle, you stay by the door."

"But what if there's a fire?" 2D asked worriedly.

"Shut up, D." When the others didn't defend him, 2D knew he had probably deserved it.

"There," Murdoc exclaimed, when they were done. "They won't get past that lot without making enough noise to wake the fucking Queen."

"This is kind of cool," 2D murmured, almost to himself.

They looked at him, exasperated, and didn't comment.

2D followed Murdoc to the balcony, where he stood with his rifle. "Fuck," the bassist said as he took in the attack. "They can't climb, can they? Why the hell didn't we run for my Bago? We'd be out of here by now and on our way to the airport, back to Hollywood, instead of holed up here living on bread and biscuits," he said vehemently.

"Does it still work?"

"Of course it still works!" he snapped impatiently, though it hadn't moved in so long he couldn't be sure.

Something suddenly occurred to 2D. "Will Cortez be all right?"

"Of course he will, you dimwit, he can fly." Though he was secretly a little touched that 2D had thought of the bird. After a bit he went to make another sharp comment, when he glanced at 2D and saw the look on his bandmate's face that he was still getting used to. "I keep forgetting your dad's died." he said quietly.

"So do I," he said sadly. They watched the zombies below them.

Murdoc stirred. "Come on."

"I'll come in a minute."

"Don't mope. It'll make you feel worse."

"I know. I'll only be a minute."

Murdoc sighed. "A minute," he conceded, and tapped 2D with the rifle - a little too hard, but it was as close too affection as he got.

2D watched them all morosely. He'd been trying to be optimistic, for the others as well as for himself, but he couldn't help feeling that this was sort of due. They were paying for their behaviour in the States. He shivered, and went back inside.

Murdoc and Noodle kept first watch, while 2D and Russel slept. 2D couldn't sleep though. When he got up for water, he found Noodle had fell asleep against the wall, and Murdoc was letting her. He glared at 2D.

"Go to sleep, you moron. I don't want to be ripped apart when you're on watch."

2D didn't bother arguing. He stepped past and got himself a bottle of water, and an extra blanket for Noodle. Murdoc rolled his eyes as he covered her.

"You all right?"

"Peachy. Go to sleep."

He slept by Murdoc instead of where he'd been by Russel, and was surprised when Murdoc didn't stop him. He slept into an uncomfortable slumber.

It only took a day for rescue, which meant they had just about the perfect zombie experience when you think about it. No harm, no lack of food, not even that much panic. The others didn't quite see it that way, though. They went on hiatus, splitting up for what they didn't realise would be five years.


	5. Point Nemo

Phase 3:

Point Nemo, ? 2010.

_"To the dark, dark sea..." _

Plastic Beach, Plastic Beach.

2D had always known Murdoc was a bit cruel. A bit sadistic, a bit ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, a bit scary, but not mental. It was only now that it was beginning to occur to 2D that he may have lost it. Gassing him, kidnapping him and locking him up on a desert island, telling people he was on a meditation retreat, was more than a bit scary. It was like one of those awful cases you read about in the papers that no-one forgot about for decades. 2D wondered if it would influence the album sales in any way.

They'd been so...so naive, thinking the Demon Days period was their darkest album, their bleakest hour, and that things could only get better. Plastic Beach was the worst. No Noodle. No Russel. Murdoc gone too far. The fucking whale.

Murdoc dragged him out occasionally to sing, and sometimes even kept him out all day, having lunch with him or sitting on the beach with him between recordings. At these times, 2D met the other inhabitants of the island. Murdoc casually mentioned Tattoo's martial arts expertise, and similar threats about Big Rick and Dave, but he needn't have bothered. 2D knew they were all paid to do Murdoc's bidding and wouldn't go against him for the world. He was trapped here. He was so fucking lonely, as well. No-one to talk to, and he couldn't even keep a diary anymore since Murdoc decided to read it and use it against him. He glanced at the window, were the whale was usually lurking, bitterly. He wouldn't be surprised if he started to lose his own mind.

It was even worse at night. 2D supposed it shouldn't make a difference, being underwater anyway, but somehow it did, it made things much worse. He just knew. Away from any natural light, no space, he felt he was stagnating down there. He hadn't moved more than the seven or eight steps the room permitted him, and he knew Murdoc had him monitored so he couldn't try anything. It was a good thing he didn't give two flying fucks about the album, as he hadn't had a creative urge or thought for days.

Murdoc disturbed him then, making 2D start as he stuck his head around the door without warning. He approached, looking irritated.

"What's wrong with you? I'm sick of seeing you moping. Why don't you sing or something, make yourself useful and do what you're actually here for..."

2D switched off. If this island had given him anything, it was Murdoc's ability to not give a fuck rubbing off on him at last. Though Murdoc himself was a little on edge lately. Still, he literally didn't care. After all the rehab, all the careful weaning off his meds, it was so hard not to take what Murdoc gave him. His old, normal amount just waiting to take the feelings away. Murdoc, oblivious to his progress, gave him enough to last fortnightly, and 2D was collecting quite the little stash. It was probably enough for everyone on the island to top themselves, he thought morbidly.

Murdoc had cheered himself up by switching from his rant to their album, its themes, the undertone he was going for. He was looking at 2D sort of expectantly. It normally didn't take much for the younger man to chip his opinion in whether it was warranted or not.

"Come on," he commanded suddenly. "Up."

2D complied warily. "Where?" _What now?_

"We've got a fucking island to play with, mate! There's no need to be in your bedroom when we could be on the beach, or in the submarine, or..."

2D didn't bother pointing out that he was being imprisoned against his will. He did protest meekly, "Not the submarine," and Murdoc conceded. He was feeling claustrophobic enough as it was.

And that was how they ended up in the lighthouse at two in the morning. And 2D had to admit, in spite of everything, it was rather beautiful. In the moonlight, the island looked like a shimmering, alien heaven. The waves were hypnotically calm in the dark, and the fact that it was all rubbish was just unbelievable. The experience was almost a little eerie.

"It's something special, isn't it?" Murdoc's voice came quietly from 2D's side. He started fumbling around with his phone, and played the half completed Plastic Beach tracks. "D'you miss girls yet?" he asked suddenly. "If you could bring a bird here...hell, you wouldn't even have to say anything, would you? Just look at that and you'd both be away..." He began roving around under one of the desks until he produced a keg of beer. 2D took his with no intention of drinking it.

"What's up with you?" he asked suddenly, startling 2D a little with the abruptness of his tone. "It's not like you were happy before I 'napped you."

"How would you know?" he returned before he could stop himself. He averted his eyes from Murdoc's narrowing ones, feeling childishly bitter and entrapped. The waves no longer looked calm but mocking, an insult to his mounting blood pressure.

"And what is that supposed to mean? I know you, D. I know you weren't happy. Whatever shit you were trying wasn't working. So I brought you here to do what you're born to."

"I said no," he snapped.

"And I knew better." He took out a cigarette, and spent a while attempting to light it with his water-damaged lighter. He didn't offer 2D one.

"I'm not happy here, either," 2D muttered, already feeling defeated. He didn't bother explaining about the whales. It was nothing Murdoc didn't already know. Plus, he just couldn't do confrontations very well. Especially not with someone who'd had so much practice. He wondered whether Murdoc could see the subtle difference in him now that he wasn't on the pills. He'd had periods of clarity before, he'd had real conversations with Murdoc before. He was being difficult now, and Murdoc knew it. Maybe he could see it.

2D had his own theory that he wasn't planning on sharing; for Murdoc, Demon Days was far from over. Murdoc had come here, to the most secluded point on Earth, because of his demons. He managed to sound cheerful and even charming and somewhat pleasant on their broadcasts, but 2D knew Murdoc too, and he wasn't happy. He was going to fight his demons or just spend some quality time with them, 2D wasn't sure. He just resented being caught up in the middle of it. He didn't really want to consider why. Murdoc just drank and said very little else.

Over the next few days, however, 2D began to waver a little. He still hated this, but he couldn't help getting into the album. It was an escape, if nothing else. He had been reflecting on this while writing lyrics, singing Plastic Beach very softly under his breath, when he felt the beginnings of a migraine. He tried to ignore it and carry on, in the manner of a child not wanting to leave a birthday party regardless of how tired he was, until it began to get worse. He looked at his notebook longingly. He'd been enjoying himself, but he knew better than to try and continue. Replacing the cap on his pen, he lay down on the bed and sighed, lids fluttering closed, hoping it would be a brief one. Plastic Beach was still stuck in his head. _The fucking irony, _as Murdoc would say.

A little later, he heard his door open. Murdoc never knocked. He'd never knocked in Kong Studios or in hotels, not for 2D anyway, reasoning that if he was paying for the property, he could go wherever he liked whenever he liked. 2D opened his eyes warily, waiting to be dragged from his bed and pushed into the lift, but Murdoc only stood in the doorway looking idle.

"Alright," he said leisurely. "You want to come up for a bit?"

2D blinked, and wondered if he'd heard him right. "To the studio?" he said uncertainly.

"Well. If you want. I'm not in the mood, to be honest. I was thinking more TV and beer and maybe a pizza, if you're good."

2D's brain felt thick and muddled, but he understood an offer to get away from the whale when he heard one. He sat up too quickly and was rewarded with a sharp stab to his temples, making him wince and still again.

"Migraine?"

"Mm. Don't think I should drink," he mumbled. His eyes sought out the window automatically, and he experienced a brief wave of nausea when he saw that it was back.

Murdoc didn't notice. "Come up anyway. I'm fucking bored, man. The weather's too bad to have anyone flown over, and fucking Tattoo and Dave are on holiday. And it's not like Big Rick can pop round for a chat." He sounded more vehement as he went on, as if he were the one who had been kidnapped and forced to live here.

2D processed it all slowly. "On holiday?" he echoed.

"I know, after a few months of work! It's a bloody joke!"

"With each other?" he asked dubiously, before Murdoc could work himself up to a fully fledged rant.

"No!" He was chortling now. "Fuck, can you imagine? No, come on mate, let's go up...it'll do you good to get out of here for a bit."

2D looked up suspiciously at the change of tone, and noticed Murdoc was flicking through his notebook as he spoke. "That's not finished," he said quickly, wanting to snatch it back.

"It's not bad." 'Not bad' was high praise from Murdoc, and despite everything 2D couldn't help experiencing a little flicker of pleasure at the praise.

And then it was gone as quickly as it came. "Come on, let's go," he commanded.

2D was led into an enormous, luxurious bedroom with an amazing view. He stood there and felt, for what felt like the first time in a good while, resentment. Not fear or shame or embarrassment but real resentment. Here Murdoc was in his fucking master bedroom while 2D was in the basement with that thing looking in on him...It was like the last kick in the teeth. Murdoc didn't respect him, he never had. If it hadn't been for his migraine, 2D thought he might have even gone for him. He shuddered at what could have happen if he had.

"Banana?" Murdoc offered, snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell us Noodle was OK?" 2D blurted it aloud without meaning to, and felt as surprised as Murdoc looked. He didn't want a confrontation, not now, and those kind of questions brought it scarily close.

Murdoc didn't seem to feel argumentative either. "I did tell you," he said neutrally.

2D swallowed. He couldn't let it go now he'd started. "At first, I mean."

He snorted. "You can't keep a secret to save your life, D. And Russel was liable to blurt something out with his psyche going haywire and all that."

_I _can _keep a secret. I never told anyone you kissed me. I never told anyone you were stone cold sober and fucking kissed me and used your tongue._ Out loud, he said lamely, "You still could have told me. You could have forced me to keep it a secret. You make me do whatever you want all the time, so you could have done that." He ducked his head.

Murdoc was barely listening to him. "Anyway, she is all right, OK? Everything's all right. It's a shame we couldn't all be involved with this one before it was wrapped up, but it's mostly me anyway, and things might be different for the next one."

Something Murdoc had said earlier had filtered through 2D's brain. "The album's finished?" he echoed.

"Hmm."

"Then why are we still here?"

Murdoc looked at him then, and 2D flinched inwardly with fear. "Because I'm not ready to leave yet," he said steadily. "OK?" He continued to look into 2D's eyes as if daring him to challenge this.

He knew it was futile but he asked anyway. "But can't I leave?"

"No." He turned back to the TV and said casually, "I might think of a B side, or something."

"But you could call me whenever and I'd come straight away- "

"Leave it, D," he said sharply, and 2D left it. "It's not so bad here," he said, after a bit. "I won't lock you in your room any more. You can go anywhere you want on the island. Move rooms, if you want, if the whale's such a fucking problem. Just don't do anything stupid." He narrowed his eyes at 2D. "No phone calls or emails or any of that shit. Because I will find out and make you sorry. Understand?"

"But why- "

"Never mind why!" He snapped. Then he breathed out and said more quietly, "You're not leaving til I say we're done. Understand?"

"Yes," he said quickly.

Murdoc relaxed, and they both went back to the TV.

2D's migraine gradually got worse. As a result, he hadn't touched any drink, and Murdoc had had half a bottle to himself. 2D suspected it wasn't his first. "I think I need to lie down," 2D said eventually, about to stand and leave for his room.

"Go on then," Murdoc said, gesturing at the rest of the bed.

It was big enough. Tiredly, 2D did as he was told.

"It'll probably pass soon," Murdoc said grudgingly, in a half-hearted attempt to be comforting, sounding as he always did when 2D was in any kind of pain or discomfort; like it was his own fault.

2D lay still, watching the flickers in front of his eyelids. He knew he was slow, but surely even he would know if Murdoc was...? No, it was ridiculous. But then, years of taking 2D's girlfriends, saying stupid drunken stuff, admitting he thought he was good looking... And of course, then there was the kiss. The elephant in the room.

He played it over a thousand times in his head, confronting Murdoc in the studio, in the kitchen, in his room, and just coming out with it; "Murdoc, why did you kiss me that time in Osaka?"

Murdoc would deny it, even though they were both sober and knew it was true. And then Murdoc would tell people 2D said that and mock him, until 2D himself would begin to have doubts. It was just the way Murdoc was. And why was it so important? Because 2D had fucked it up. _He had run away. _And Murdoc probably didn't even think about it anymore. It was probably for the best if neither of them ever thought about it, but it still hurt that he had blown it.

"Murdoc?" he blurted.

"Mm?"

He swallowed. He might as well now. "You remember that time we were in Osaka..?" He couldn't see his bandmate's face from where he was lying, but he felt him stiffen. They lay in silence for long moments, the only sound coming from the television.

"Yeah?" Murdoc said, surprising even himself with how casual he sounded. "I wondered if you'd ever bring that up." He took a drink to reward himself.

2D's voice came timidly, "I thought you might have forgotten."

"I thought _you_ might have, with your fucking brain. But there we are."

"Yeah. Um. Why...?"

Murdoc drummed his fingers lightly on the bed and stared at the television. He could feel an energy bubble up within him, and knew he couldn't act on it even slightly or he would end up either fucking or killing 2D, right now. "Don't worry about it, D," he said lightly. It seemed as good an answer as any. He had all the time in the world on this island, and he'd sort out this shit in his own time, on his own terms, not 2D's.

So 2D had brought it up. Murdoc had been expecting it, especially in 2005 when 2D had suddenly decided to grow some balls. But then his dad died and that took the wind out of his sails a bit. He was quite drunk. It was nice of 2D to set the wheels in motion for him. Pity he had a migraine at that moment, but they had all the time in the world. Murdoc hadn't brought him to the most isolated point of the world for nothing, after all. Tomorrow, providing 2D was properly recovered, he would indulge 2D and watch Pirates of the Caribbean with him and give him run of the island. But tomorrow, tomorrow he would have it out with 2D, all of it, and they would take it from there.


End file.
